Lightning Bolts
by MystiqueShines
Summary: "You do know that Lightning bolts are my thing, right Daddy?" He had no idea of her being pregnant. He had no idea what the sound of a little girl's tears sounded like. He had no idea what the sound of a heart shattering could sound like. He had no idea for how long he'd been gone. He didn't even think to say hi to his long lost baby girl, Honey Ari Foster.
1. Chapter 1

~PROLOGUE~

**_"_**_You do know that Lightning bolts are __**my **__thing, right Daddy?" _

He had no idea of her being pregnant. He had no idea what the sound of a little girl's tears sounded like. He had no idea what the sound of a heart shattering could sound like. He had no idea for how long he'd been gone.

He didn't even think to say hi.

So, when he is called to Earth once more with his brother Loki, the Avengers are mystified by the little girl, with long blond hair in straggely whisps around her heart shaped face, dark tan skin and chocolate brown eyes inherited from her mother and the anger that sits in them.

He never thought such a young child could be capable of such hate. Nor, did the God understand what happened in the time he was gone and what happened inside her.

Then, when the secret is revealed, Thor cannot understand why his daughter hates him so much.

ஜ~ஜ~ஜ

© Honey Foster and this Fan Fiction story to Mystique_Shines


	2. Chapter 2

ஜS.H.I.E.L.D Centreஜ

Nick Fury sat back in his office chair, arms folded as the manila folder on his desk sat untouched, the few syllables of a name printed in black ink. He sighed as his finger tips just brushed the smooth folder, and for the first time in a long time, Fury felt scared.

All he knew of the chaos in the centre of their air machine, was that they had found something. Hidden in the depths in New Mexico, held dearly close to a woman he had encountered once before, but not face-to-face.

But when he was told what the unknown object was he was astonished. Holding the folder gingerly in his thick and rough hands, they shook and took the edge of the page and opened it, his eyes scanning the name on the front before he opened it.

**Honey Amelia Foster.**

Crisp white pages were clipped to the thick folder, dates and facts of her in printed letters, making another sigh leave his lips, hitting the pages before him. On the end page, a picture of a girl, stolen from the New Mexico household for an identity. His eyes widened as, from the pictures he had already seen of the angered girl, she was smiling. Bright and happy - a stark contrast to the anger he had seen from the large screens in the centre of S.H.I.E.L.D.

He stood up, slightly wavering with the folder in his hands and, touching the small keypad embedded into the clockwork of the folder beneath the thick paper, he spread his hands wide, sending the facts and pictures to his monitor in front of him. He dropped the folder on his desk with a thump.

He shivered as he stared at the facts. Her birthday and hobbies were displayed before the man with the patch over his eye. Then, the pictures loaded and he sighed.

She looked so sweet and innocent with a smile on her face. But when it disappeared, Honey Foster looked ready to bury someone alive.

A girl of around six stared into the camera, taken around seven or eight years ago. An ice cream cone was held tightly in her chubby fingers, with vanilla cream in her hair, making the strands sticky and dirty. A woman, around the age of twenty-six, who would possibly be thirty-four now, had the little girl on her lap, pretending to smoke the flake that had been pushed between her rosy lips. The silliness of it made him smile.

Another picture of the girl older now, around eight, stood in a dance costume. Her hair was frizzy making her look disheveled, and a light blue dressed hugged her body, a corset with two sleeves, see-through and hooked around the gaps between her fingers and thumb to hold them to her arms. The corset stopped at her waist and, in ripped tangles of light and dark blue, the dress came down in a sort of ripped Cinderella way. She stood in a dramatic pose on a stage, her make-up done and the look of a damsel in distress, at the young age of eight, sat on her pretty face. She was a dancer.

The last one was of her once more, on her own, in another dress for a dance competition. A black dress, looking soft and thick in velvet, stuck to her figure. A sparkly under-top hugged at her ribs and as the dress curved into her hips, stuck out into a see-through skirt, with black box-shorts hidden beneath. The dress came to her mid-thighs making her look elegant and swan like - easy to anger, and yet the trust is hard to gain.

Another girl stood next to her, grinning from ear-to-ear. A black girl with her hair in a high bun, stood with a trophy, identical to her friend's, in a green and orange dress. The dress had a green sweetheart neckline, with an orange butterfly to connect the two at the bust. It continued to the end of her ribs, and seemed to release spirals of orange and white down her legs. Both of them had hooked their arms around the other waist, make-up done on their faces perfectly.

Another video of her dance recital in her Cinderella dress was positioned on the tail of the videos, as if wanting to hide away. Not to give anything away about it's muse. But, Fury's hand seemed to search the screen and, pressing it firmly to the link, the video started.

The stage was quiet. The audience's eyes hunted for their target. The judge sat in her seat, poised and ready. Then, the music started. Out of the corner of the room, she swung her arms and her feet slide across the floor as she ran. She was a contemporary dancer. She smiled wide at the audience and he caught a glimpse of the girl she was stood with before, her hand grasping at a boy's hand, itching to step out of her seat.

She went on. As she got close to the audience, she jumped in the air and spun, toes pointed and her hair created a halo. A tau, was it called? Then, she leaned forwards, waving her arms like they were water as she bent low to the floor without bending her knees. She came back up, and the look of distress he had seen before was once again on her face as she posed, her hands thrown across her body as if trying to shield herself from the hurt and pain, her leg held up into the hold and her toes pointed once more.

Then, in a quiet motion, she tossed her leg out backwards, sending her arms out with her and snapping her head back. Then, she released herself from the pose, and went on, and Fury looked away as the door to his office opened.

Maria Hill stood in the doorway in her black skin-tight suit, the same colour as her hair. Stitched in, just above her breast, was the S.H.I.E.L.D logo. On her hips, a low leather belt held guns and grenades, tucked into large holsters. But, Fury also noticed the bracelet on her wrist. White against the dark costume, a yellow smiley face hung from the thin thread.

"Sir?" asked Maria tentatively. She knew something was wrong. She had been loyal to S.H.I.E.L.D for years, too long for her to count, and loyal to Nicholas Fury. She knew when something was wrong.

"Agent Hill," he responded. Letting his hands drag across the desk lightly, he looked up at her and seemed to chuckle. "Tell me, what do you know of our new guest?"

"The girl, sir?" she asked, curiosity in her voice. She sounded like a mere child. Like the same child that was then locked in a room, somewhere deep inside the facility.

"I know that she is different to most, and has the control over Lightning, but I have not been informed properly of her abilities, sir."

"Rumours?" he asked, the sly smirk appearing on his face. Even in a secret facility, the rumours spread like wild fire in a jungle.

"That one of the men heard her communicating with him, telepathically," she tapped her thin finger to her temple as she stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind her.

The thick chuckle escaped him, and as the dancer's story ended on the screen, he looked up. A distressed Cinderella had turned away from the screen and was skipping back, the video ending before she even reached her proud mother. He knew the mother, and he knew the face intimately.

"Hill," he coughed once more, turning to look at her as she stood at his desk, ready for attention. "Watch this. Try and pin point the sound in the background. From a few months ago, I'll believe."

He turned back to about the end of the dance as she went to turn quickly, a smile on her face and as this happened, the sound of thunder and rain could be heard. In the back, the girl's mother stood and closed the door, clapping for her daughter.

But, just before the door closed, a figure seemed to rain down from the sky. Closer up, a large hammer could be seen, glinting in the lightning.

He closed up on them, and watched Hill's expression. Another chuckle resonated out of him. "See that? That was a few years ago. Now, has Thor or Loki ever told us that? Because, around thirteen years ago, he seemed to disappear from Jane Foster's life and if you look closely," he turned his close up to the woman smiling, standing up to close the door. "Who is that woman, you see?"

"Jane Foster, sir?"

He smiled and took the picture down, back to the main menu, and with a sigh, Agent Hill noticed something. Nick Fury, looked tired. He looked like the colour had been drained out of him and as he turned to Agent Hill, he put his hands behind his back. "And if Jane Foster had loved Thor as much as she did, would she have been with another man around the same time Thor was around?"

It clicked in Maria Hill's head and her eyes widened, her hands started to shake as she realized what had happened. Never hold a Norse God, or even a young Demigod - no-one knows what should happen.

He leaned down over the microphone, a picture of each avenger, even the one in Asgard, was able to hear him. He pressed the button down and hung his head, "I didn't want to have to say this again guys, but," he said, letting his hand stay down on the button firmly. "Avengers assemble."


End file.
